


The Peace They'd Found in Each Other

by animeownsmysoul



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Introspection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeownsmysoul/pseuds/animeownsmysoul
Summary: "Love. She felt so much love, and so much calm."Raoul/Christine super short kid fic.《Tw minor implied ptsd》





	The Peace They'd Found in Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck Love Never Dies.
> 
> Also fun fact!   
> In the 19th century labor pains were eased with cholorphorm.
> 
> This was inspired by Kate Chopin's description of childbirth in the late 19th century.

Christine emerged from her chloroform sleep to Raoul gently placing a light, solid bundle in her arms. She marveled in a hazy wonder at the impossibly small fingers, the soft, red cheeks, ran her fingers gentle and awed across the tiny mouth and nose. Experiencing and savoring a moment so fleeting and unparalleled but at once mundane, experienced by each and every single mother in each and every single country, each and every single second; to behold one's child for the first time.

“Our daughter, Christine” he murmured reverently.

“A girl ?” She smiled softly.

Love. She felt so much joy, and so much calm. 

And so much change.

It had been 17 months since the last time they'd seen Him. And yet she still looked over her shoulder from time to time. She still flinched and froze at the slightest movement in the mirror.

Raoul still shot up awake in the night with a tear on his cheek and a hand grasping at his neck.

And yet there was no active fear. No present danger, just a ghost of the past.

A phantom in their minds.

Yet there was no phantom with them now, in their bedroom with the early evening orange glow permeating the curtains. Their daughter pressed between them, so small, so fragile, and still so strong, so real in Christine's arms. 

They’d begun to built a peace that would only continue to grow. 

To grow with their daughter. The seedling that blossomed even as they gazed. Her soft coos would become a little girl's giggle that would echo through the halls of the De Changy villa long after she'd grown up. 

And the two, now three, had this moment of quiet, together, to enjoy the peace that they'd found in each other.


End file.
